Vol 5
by LonelyDiggin
Summary: The fifth volume. Please check out prequels.
1. Siblings’ Day Out

Misaka and her 19998th sister met on the empty campus of Tokiwadai. She was a visitor. Family members were allowed on campus anytime, friends only on weekends. For Misaka, her clones were more than sisters. They carried something significant. It was almost as if they were meant to supplement her lost self. They both appeared obedient in usual school uniforms of private middle schools that displayed social status. Every detail was meant to emphasize the prestige. Furthering that notion, both their schools were under the administration of _School Garden_. It was an educational district in Academy City intended for students located way up the ladder of social hierarchy. Emily was the only clone enrolled in one of the five schools in the district. The five schools only admit Level 3s and above. She was the only Level 3.

"Sis." 19998 addressed Misaka.

"Good morning Emily." Emily was the name she chose. However, her clone still preferred the unorthodoxy of adopting a five digit number as a name. She agreed reluctantly, from Misaka's insistence, that she would adopt an ordinary name.

"How's school going?" Misaka asked. Taking up the _big_ _sister_ role, it appeared simply natural to inquire about the academic life of her _siblings, _whom she most deeply cared about. Emily extended all the fingers on her right hand, then spread them out, before casually rocking her hand like a boat on water. Her palms were pointing down.

"Do you remember what we discussed last time?" Misaka asked.

"Yeah… something about protecting what we love… I only remember busting some wannabe gangsters!" Emily replied excitedly as she spun around. Her legs lashed out at a forty five degrees angle. She struck air. In an immature yet surprisingly appropriate fashion in correspondence to the aura she carried, Emily mimicked the the signature move that displayed defiance, to the misery of all the vending machines in Academy City. Normally, Misaka would have become frustrated at her lack of seriousness. However, biologically Emily is only thirteen. Misaka turned fifteen in May. It hasn't been long since the clones developed basic human emotions. She was only glad that Emily seemed content and adjusted to new her life, and as for now that would suffice.

"Let's take a walk around here." Misaka said.

"It's a beautiful place." They walked towards the sports fields adjacent to the Tokiwadai dormitory building, of which the Victorian architecture shone brightly under the sun. The track field in early June smelt of flowers, freshly cut grass, and the hot polyurethane surfacing. They walked through the sports field and past the main building that housed the classrooms and libraries. After leaving the campus, they walked until reaching a square in the center of the miniature town. The ground was paved with sett and cobbles tessellated in a variety of patterns. The traditional brick architecture had flat roofs, gables, or spires, and corbels. Some entrances consisted of entablature supported by colonnades, manifesting a blend of neoclassical and baroque styles. The balconies protruded out from some of the buildings, overlooking the busy streets. It's metal balusters were surrounded by arabesque patterns. The bricks were brand new. Therefore the antiquity appeared forced and unnatural.

"Man, they built this district in such a manner just to widen the contrast between here and the rest of the city." Emily observed, staring at the distinct skyline composed of glass skyscrapers penetrating into the sky. Misaka nodded.

"Yeah, from here it seemed that the skyscrapers are miles away."

A few children were playing by the fountain in the middle of the square, they walked past it towards the path on the opposite side where there was a bus station. In ten minutes they were transported to the very center of the city. This district housed the majority of the skyscrapers, including the tallest-the Board of Directors' building. The jungle was so densely packed that they could only see the lower levels of each tower. All the lower portions of the buildings resembled each other to such an extent that they could almost be described as homogenous.

They passed a shopping mall and a hotel. It was the same shopping mall that she bought her Gekota phone, the same hotel she stayed in when she planned raids on the labs. The only characteristic of the building that differentiated it from the other was the neon signs waiting to be lit. Times have changed, and now those events has become history, merely fading memories.

"Would you like to buy some clothes, Emily? I can help you pick." Misaka offered.

"Nah I'm good, my wardrobe is stuffed actually."

"Are you sure? Aren't there any guys in your classes that perhaps…. you would like to… you know." Misaka smirked at Emily.

"Preferring specific garments with the intentions of appearing desirable towards the opposite sex are an irrelevant feature towards the Sister's mission, stated Misaka 19998." Then they laughed at Emily's mockery towards her former, robotic self.

"No, seriously, there's no need. The guys in my classes are mostly socially awkward nerds, and I'd prefer to stay away from them anyways." Emily replied. They walked into a public park and settled for some Crepe Suzette at a street vendor. It revived comforting memories from within Misaka's mind, which suffered from continuous overloading stress. Her and the group of friends would always carboload themselves. Misaka imitated the robotic voice that she has long been familiarized with.

"Perceiving such concoction of sugar and ethyl alcohol as a delicacy is detrimental towards the wellbeing of the Sisters. Comments Misaka, with a mild sense of detestation in her voice." Misaka finished with a cough. Emily laughed harder.

"You are actually better at this than I am!" Commented Emily. They sat down on a stone bench, watching more crepes being prepared in a silver pan, soaking in the golden caramel sauce. Heated Grand Marnier being poured in and lit on fire. The blue and orange flames was the final touch that brought the flavours into one harmony of taste.

"Man, I really wish they would be here." Misaka said. They, of course, refers to all her usual friends. Saten and Uiharu had to attend a makeup class. Kuroko had her regular judgement meetings.


	2. Shinasame DNA Map Analysis Laboratory

"Emily, I… er… need to ask you for a favor."

Emily turned her head at Misaka, staring with her big, innocent eyes, her mouth was full of food.

"This is sort of the _real_ reason I asked you out."

After minutes of painful explanation, Emily nodded at her understandingly. She held Misaka's hand comfortingly.

"Don't worry. It's no biggie."

"Are you sure? Emily, I would never force you to do something like this."

"Yeah… of course you wouldn't. Coz' all we have to do is to infiltrate some place so secret that it does not even exist on the fucking map. Like, seriously?"

"Now you are over exaggerating it. That place might not even be functioning anymore. I told you that we are just looking."

"You know what, fine…" Misaka already gave Emily a big hug before she could finish. "And uhh… I forgot my wallet."

"Yeah yeah yeah, no worries. It's all on me."

They walked back to the bus station and got on a bus. It drove towards the less urbanized districts. John's former school was there. Several men in leather jackets leaned against abandoned buildings smoking cigarettes, most of them had knife marks and bandaids on their faces. One had his sleeve rolled up. He had a spider tattoo on his forearm. They stared at the passing vehicles coldly, making Misaka worried that they would recognize her. They were in _that _part of town again. Remember the posing leader who had his ass kicked by Kurozuma Wataru? He and his men had resumed power because there was no one to take the place of Kurozuma, who had been in prison on charges of assault. He was only supposed to be locked up for three months. Several politicians kept him in there longer which effectively prevented him from taking control of the organization again. They needed Big Spider to carry out what they cannot be _seen_ doing.

The lab was in an underground bunker. Shinasame University sat above it. Misaka was well aware that this lab provided funding and the latest DNA technologies to scientists who attempted to clone her. This was the only lab that she did not attack in person, but attempted to hack using her electromaster powers in an act which local authorities call _cyber terrorism._ She had known enough about the Level Six Shift. That wasn't the reason she came. Misaka scanned the place for any cameras. She used her device to hack into the cameras to turn them off, which did not seem necessary. They climbed over the walls of the campus. They walked on the lawns covered with untrimmed grass and bushes. She zapped the doors of the main building, which opened with ease. The corridors and rooms were dark. Some light managed to seep through windows. Instantly they were hit by the smell of paper burning, cigarettes, and a little gasoline. There were soot on some sections of the of the white walls-people were burning documents. Some glass windows had cracks on them due to the heat.

"Why would they burn stuff here?" Emily asked.

"They were probably in a hurry." Misaka replied as she brushed a finger across a patch of soot. It was left there recently. Possibly just days ago.

They closed the door behind them, instantly lowering the brightness. The two walked on the marble floor, with every step making an echo. Emily jumped when she turned her head towards a glass classroom. Misaka looked in her direction to see a life-sized human anatomy model with its rubber intestines hanging from its disemboweled abdominal cavity. Misaka held her hand. Besides the occasionally creepy models and paper burning, the place still looked like a functional school. They kept walking until they reached a section where there were windows right on the side of the corridor. It was brighter, and they could see the lawn and the sports field outside.

"We're too late. They knew this place was compromised, they've relocated and burnt all the documents you need."

"It's alright, we'll be out of here soon." They came to the locker rooms, Emily being quiet all the time. Next to it was a janitor's closet. Misaka held up her hands to feel the hidden mechanism behind the doors. She zapped it carefully. It opened up to a small room, inside it was a spiraling iron staircase leading down.

"It has to be a specific voltage that passes through the machines in order to open the door."

They began descending. With every spiral they passed Emily came closer to Misaka, squeezing her hand. The stairwell was only lit by a dim red light, and there were alternating sections of dim light and darkness. The would also come across sections that were completely dark. Occasionally they would hear white noise coming from the speakers embedded in the walls. They finally reached a sign saying "Restricted Area. Laboratory Personnel Only." The metal door leading to the lab was wide open.

Misaka had good memory. She knew that the lab was a duplicate of the second one she and John had attacked that night, the one where they met Shinobu, except that this one was underground. The devices that were used to grow the sisters were long empty. The containers were intact and marked with numbers. Five digit numbers less than 20000. Emily clenched her fists when she saw them. They went up in another set of stairs to the control room where there sat the main screen, the sets of panels, and microphones. Up another flight of stairs was finally the room where they needed to be-where the printed documents were stored. This door was unlocked too.

The place did not seem abandoned. In fact, it was exactly the opposite of being abandoned. The room was lit by light from fluorescent tubes. Documents littered the wooden tables-somebody must've printed them out again despite the fact that the former residents burnt them. Someone who has access to them. Judging from the way the those documents were scattered, they must have served little to no purpose. Misaka and Emily walked towards the inner sections of the room, where it was arranged in an office manner-personal workspaces with desktop computers. Misaka touched the screen of one. It was warm. She did not bother hacking into it yet. For some reason, she has a feeling that they would be treated like guests, so they kept walking.

They reached the recreation area with mini-sofas and small round tables. The place was recently cleaned, the tables wiped. A mini office kitchen was in front of them, but it was dark. Then they heard what was like an espresso machine forcing boiling water at 900 kilopascals through fine coffee ground. A figure emerged out of the shadows holding a small cup on a plate. It was a tall and skinny man in his early twenties, wearing glasses and a lab coat over his uniform. Misaka recognized him from that lecture. He set the coffee on a table.

"Misaka-san. I was expecting you to come. I am eager to talk to you. Please, sit." They sat.

"I see that you brought another guest here. Welcome. Can I get something for you? Anything."

"Tea please, thank you." They said at the same time. Moments later, he came out of the dark kitchen carrying two ceramic mugs.

"Before we get started, please allow me to introduce myself and set a couple of things straight to avoid any misunderstandings," he said, sitting down and shaking their hands, "My name is Aritomi Haruki and I condemn the Level 6 Shift project."


	3. Aritomi's New Ally

"I do not believe in improving one's powers solely for personal gain, such as the Level 6 project. You see, out of the many reasons I chose you as a potential ally, the main one was because of your benevolence towards lower level Espers."

"I know the pain of feeling inferior. Believe me, I was once a level 1." Misaka replied.

"We live in a world of equality. But some people are more equal than others." Aritomi added. "To be honest with you, I used to despise Esper powers. It has always stolen my spotlight. I was like a child begging for attention. Now I think Esper powers have endless potential, as long as we get to control it. I wished to study it within my field of research, so I started working with Board members who funded me. Guess what they did? They just used my research to keep the public stupid and under control. From your understanding of history, what other country is in desperate need of an army and therefore likely funded me and the board for military technology?"

"You mean Japan. Their prime minister ****** ***."

"I need a new ally." Aritomi stared at her in the eye. "I cannot be _seen_ collaborating with other researchers, especially Heaven Canceller and Kiyama Harumi. Right now this project is independent, and exclusively funded by the government. There is no compromise."

"Now, I am just a secondary school student, but please hear my theory. Based on my countless experiences, every conflict that has ever taken place in Academy City was ultimately a form of socio-economic competition between different levels of Espers." Haruki nodded at the words from the child prodigy. "Our education system advocates for personal improvement, that is, striving to improve your powers. Our legislative system is rigged to give higher level privileges. Imagine that, higher levels always get to go to the best schools and live in the most prestige districts. It used to be more merit based, and one could work hard to level up, but the problem is, higher level Espers want to keep their powerful positions and not be replaced. Basically, we put low level Espers in already undesirable positions, then we hate them for not improving."

"Seems like what divides us is not ideology, not factions, but Esper levels."

"Yes, there is that intrinsical division. Adding to what you said, the government keeps the public under control by establishing a reward system for loyalty to the State. They use higher level Espers as positive examples and diverts our attention away from the inequality. They shove that hierarchical system in our faces and we unknowingly play by their rules." Misaka drew quotation marks with her fingers. "Ideally, we need to abolish the Level system. Only the State can conduct Esper projects designed to improve our society. That way, there will be no more exploitation between classes." Haruki listened carefully while calmly sipping his drink. "Most important of all, researchers like you would have a greater voice and a place equal to Espers."

Emily was not listening. She was adding _Half & Half _to her tea and stirring sugar cubes into it. She was making milk tea. It was a habit passed down from Shinobu. Most of the sisters started doing it ever since, as they all felt some sort of emotional attachment towards her. After all, she was the one that gave them _emotions_ in the first place.

"I know why you are here." Aritomi began. "This is a DNA map analysis facility. I am aware of foreign powers creating Espers using methods that are analogous to our own. Now, I know that you are looking for a information on a boy? Perhaps slightly older than you?" Misaka sighed at her intentions being discovered. "He has been genetically modified. His power cannot be measured using our conventional system, but is probably somewhere that is higher than a level 5. Here." He took out a thick brown envelope from underneath his lab coat. "This contains all records of the experiments that has taken place here, and the discovered methods of modifying genes that are currently in use. I tried to condense it." He finished as he took another sip of espresso.

Aritomi got up from, and so did Misaka. "Let me show you something." He said. They walked towards the center of the office. There was a cabinet embedded in the wall which Aritomi opened with a key. The cabinet doors opened to form a hidden whiteboard. There were two link charts on it, one with the world map being it's background. Misaka's eyes immediately travelled to the United States, particularly the Southwest. A picture of a man was pinned to it, with a white string leading to it from Academy City. The man who she instantly recognized, was the director of the Level 6 Program.

"I was about to cooperate with him. He disappeared. That was the last place he visited." Another string lead to Russia. In the picture was a frail teenager with white hair. He was wearing a T-shirt with black and white stripes. The stripes were shaped like Vs.


	4. Resurrection

It was _that _part of town again. Through a rural forest trail, on the outskirts. Broken cinder block buildings. Men in their twenties. Leather jackets and jeans. On the roof of an abandoned building, where Konori and Kurozuma used to hang out. A man looked particularly sore. He was smoking a mysterious substance from a glass pipe, his calloused hands pressing on a cheap plastic lighter underneath. His pupils were dilated. He was breathing fast, his body anticipating what's to come.

One whiff of the pipe. No more stress. Euphoria.

"Fuck yeah! This is some good shit!"

"When it starts, it will be over soon." A man said. He was leaning against the metal railing, which was turning brown and red. "Follow your instincts and you'll be fine." That man looked more experienced than the others. He was in a tattered shirt. His long hair hasn't been washed in days. Weeks. No one knows. It was greasy, but he tried to keep it groomed. He was spinning a switchblade in his hand.

"Man fuck instincts. We just rush'em." He took another smoke. He stuttered as his facial muscles twitched. "They pu…pussies! All of them!" He yelled, revealing his rotting teeth.

They stood up and picked up the guns they left on the ground. Most were pump-action shotguns and UZIs. They slung duffel bags of ammo over their shoulders and started walking down the staircase.

A black Chevrolet Suburban drove into the area. The paint job was new. It showed a black spider crawling on a red web. It parked on the side of that building. The sliding doors opened and 8 men got out carrying loaded automatic weapons. Mostly AKs and M16s. They wore camo pants, leather boots and leather jackets, except for one man who seemed to be the commander. He wore a two piece suit. They cocked their guns almost at the same time. The sound rang throughout the neighborhood. They kicked the front door open and darted up the stairs in a semi-organized manner. Rapid footsteps could be heard. Gunfire ensued. There were spraying, burst fire and rhythmic semi auto. The sound of 12 gauge shotguns particularly stood out as loud bangs. The windows on each level lit up, like a pulse traveling through the building. Some windows shattered, and some had bodies falling out of them. The brighter, more sudden flashes were followed by sharp cracks and rapidly expanding smoke. They were fragmentation grenades.

Moments later, the Spiders came out of the building. Some were covered in blood, some faces were bandaged, but all 8 men showed up. The person in the suit dialed a number on his flip phone.

"It's done." He said, before routinely tearing his flip phone in half and tossing it into the building. In the forest which is a ten minutes drive from _that_ part, parked an Anti Skill operator's van. A man sat in the van in full Anti Skill body armor. He also tore up his flip phone, took out the battery, and threw it out of the window, into a nearby lake. He smirked.

The Spiders drove off and a black Sedan came back, this time without the Spider and Web insignia. This time two men hopped off. They wore fire retardant suits. They gathered all the bodies up in the building, went back to the car, and opened the trunk, revealing 6 aluminum cans. One man was clearly older and more experienced than the other. "Try to pour them onto flammable materials, including bodies and clothing." He advised. And so they got to work, putting on helmets, going into the building and carrying empty cans back into the trunk. The older man struck a road flare, which spew sparks and gave off bright red light. He threw it into a shattered window. A "whoosh" followed. The phone that was in there caught on fire.

It was the same day, at around five o'clock. The district was closer to the downtown than the cinder block buildings, but still a considerable distance. It resembled a town with its shorter buildings and a wider Main Street. Food booths lined the street, and people sat around wooden tables with patio umbrellas. Nine people just walked out of a bar. Seven of them wore leather jackets. The man in the middle wore a plain white shirt with his sleeves rolled up. His right forearm was heavily tattooed. He was holding a girl with that arm. The girl looked young, _really_ young. One of the man in a leather jacket lit a cigarette for the man in the shirt.

A man in a hoodie sat on a bench. He stood up, holding a machete, and started walking towards them, with his hoodie covering his head. The group noticed him. They drew their switchblades. One threw down his lit cigarette and started charging towards the machete wielding person. Others followed. The first man tried to stab him with the knife, but got blocked. He then received a kick to leg. The machete man managed to get behind him and strike the back of his knees, effectively crippling him. One swing of his machete, and his head rolled off. At this point, the bystanders started running away. A lady puked when she witnessed the decapitation. A second guy tried to cut him, but he managed to dodge, then striking him in the chest with his elbow. He turned him around and slit his throat with the machete. A red fountain sprung up from his nicked carotid artery. He fell. The machete man grabbed an empty beer bottle from a nearby table, smashed it, and engaged the third guy, dodging kicks and blocking stabs, before he stabbed him on the stomach and neck with the broken bottle. The fourth and fifth guy ran towards him at the same time. He picked up a wooden chair and threw it to disorient them. He flung his machete, which got embedded in a man's chest. He grabbed a guy's leg as he tried to kick him, and twisted it with a sickening crunch. As he fell, he kicked at his head numerous times. Panicking, the man in the shirt pushed the girl towards him, who let her run away. The last three man did the same, only to get ran over by a black sedan in the cross roads in front of them. The man retrieved his machete from the dead body's chest and went for the man in the shirt on the ground. He stabbed him right through the neck, blood splattered onto his white hoodie. He took it off, revealing a Big Spider tattoo on his arm. He got in the sedan. It drove off.


	5. The Delivery

10 o'clock at night. The Academy City Port in summer night seemed calmer than usual. The cargo boxes were stacked neatly next to the warehouses. There weren't much shipments. The cranes were not operating. The railroad tracks were not being used. There weren't much ships docked either, mostly a few fishing vessels, and two yachts. Then the ports lit up. A small cargo ship began approaching. The ship looked old and should be retired. It lacked adequate lighting, or maybe, the lights were purposefully turned off. The sides were rusty, corroded by sea water. The ship carried cargo boxes of unknown content. As the ship got closer, a man was seen standing on the deck, leaning against the ship's railing. He wore a suit. His fine white gloves grabbed onto the rusty steel bars. His shined leather shoes were juxtaposed against the deck covered in grime. The masthead was flying a flag; the Dutch flag.

As the ship docked, the windows of three black SUVs that were parked there lit up. The men inside got out to greet the man on the ship, who stepped down from the deck.

"I believe you're our guy?" Asked one man from the SUV. "Had a smooth trip?"

"Pretty good. We've only changed our flag and name three times." Said the man in the suit.

"They're really clamping down on you guys eh?"

"Yeah, a little inconvenient. But still lucky, considering that we had to go through the Bosphorus, the Suez. Played some _cat and mouse_ with pesky customs when crossing the strait of Malacca." He replied casually while drawing from a pack of Marlboro.

"Yeah, well, our boss will pay up, whoever the hell _he_ is. Meanwhile, let's have some fun! Get you guys fixed up. Here…I got you." He lit the cigarette for the delivery man with a Zippo lighter.

They got in the SUVs, which drove off. The Big Spider insignias on the vehicles were briefly illuminated as they drove under the high-mast lightings.

"I have a visual." Reported Yomikawa Aiho. She was in prone position, on the top floor of an unfinished building in downtown Academy City. A few Anti Skill members were crouching behind her, giving assistance. One crouched next to a field radio. Another was looking through binoculars. "That's him." He said.

"Dammit. Why did they sign me up for this one…" She muttered as years of training managed to stop her hands from shaking. Aiho was extra tense to the extent that she did not eat dinner, as she was afraid of throwing up in front of her colleagues. After the job, her, Tessou Tsuzuri and Tsukuyomi Komoe would visit the bathhouse as usual. Tsuzuri, being her usual partner, could not participate tonight. Her psychological qualities were mediocre. She also did not complete sniper training.

Several fully equipped Anti Skill members were prone beside her. They were all aiming through their Accuracy International AWP rifles. Through their Nightforce NXS 8-32x56 rifle scopes were highly magnified telescopic images of Hebitani Tsuguo, the leader who impersonated Kurozuma Wataru, and his right hand men. Walking alongside them was the _delivery man_, who the Anti Skill members could not recognize. They had just gotten out of the black SUV in the middle of the convoy.

Aiho adjusted the zoom on her scope. All she awaited, was an order. Seconds later, a voice came from the radio and the headsets they wore: "It's off, it's off! Cancel the operation."

Most of the snipers followed the order, they got up to disassemble their rifles. Aiho was one of the quickest to do so. Only one member remained on the floor. His index finger was a millimeter away from the trigger.

"Do not fire!" Aiho warned him in a whispering voice. "We still have more chances. To take care of them." She said, as if reading his mind. Aiho had also noticed that he had just joined Anti Skill. The new recruit was visibly frustrated as he watched Tsuguo and his men walk into a hotel, losing the visual. He got up and took off the suppressor, the scope, magazine and bipod, then concealed the parts in the rifle case. He followed them down the concrete stairs.

Aiho called Tsukuyomi Komoe as she walked.

"Where you at?"

"I'm at my house. Why?" Answered a softer voice.

"Let's hit the bathhouse now."

"Well, it's a bit earlier than I expected, but sure." Said Komoe.

"Actually let's go get something to eat first. Haven't had dinner."

"Okay. See you and Tsuzuri at the food stall."


	6. Serve the People

Three men sat at a bar in the nightclub of the hotel: the Delivery Man, Hebitani Tsuguo, and the Anti Skill Commissioner. They were in suits. Hebitani handed the Delivery Man an aluminum briefcase, which the latter kept at his side. They were drinking and smoking Cuban cigars, courtesy of the expensive _delivery_ service.

The bar table was a ring situated in one end of the nightclub, with the other end being a wooden stage where a band was performing Latin jazz. On both sides of the room were lounges and balconies overlooking the stage and the bar. Men from the ship, Big Spider, and Anti Skill members sat in those lounges, smoking Pakistani hashish.

Back to the bar, the Delivery Man wasn't as talkative as he was half an hour earlier. Hebitani kept the bartender busy; he took shot after shot. The Anti Skill Commissioner, a man in his fifties, was on the phone, when a young girl wearing nothing but undergarments walked towards him.

"Yep, that's great. Listen, I will get back to you later alright? Bye." Said the Commissioner as he hung up. "Hey girl."

"Hey there, you're the Commissioner of Anti Skill aren't ya?" Asked the girl, with her fingers under the Commissioner's chin, gently teasing it.

"What makes it look like I am?" Asked the Commissioner casually, but failing miserably to contain his inner beast. His leathery hands reached out to unspeakable areas on the girl.

"Oh I can tell. The aura you carry… so strong and manly." Answered the girl, moving onto his balding head. "I would like to thank you for keeping our city safe."

"Oh yeah?" Began the Commissioner, breathing hard. Saliva almost flowed out of his mouth. "And how are you going to do that?"

"Why don't you find out?" Answered the girl, giggling.

"I'd better come with you then." Said the Commissioner, swiftly standing up and hooking one arm around the girl's waist. They walked out of the bar.

Hebitani did not turn his head to look at the Commissioner and the girl walking out. In fact, he did not even hear their conversation. He had stopped taking shots, and was propping his head up with one arm on the table. His thoughts were not in the same time as he physically was.

The gang-infested district was often dubbed "The Great Shithole" by people on a range of social statuses. As the name implies, it has become quite unbearable lately. When a group of rather _gifted_ individuals decided to intervene, Anti Skill found it fitting to perform the _Raid_. This storming of a major criminal lair was said to be "the service of utmost value towards social order", as the Anti Skill Commissioner put it during an interview.

Hebitani's thoughts travelled back to the day of the Raid. He was kneeling on the ground, clutching the spot on his stomach where he just got punched.

"What happened to you, Hebitani?" Asked Kurozuma, looking down towards the ground.

"I had no choice… Big Spider was the only place where we belonged. I had no choice but to become _you_, in order to keep everything from falling apart. I'm the one who's actually trying to make things work! Where were you when the gang needed you?" Demanded Hebitani. Kurozuma was silent.

"And that's why, you don't belong here anymore!" Stated Hebitani, as he drew his switchblade and attacked in a last-ditch effort.

Kurozuma threw another punch. Straight to his face. Hebitani fell.

After Hebitani's consciousness returned, he and his homies were being lined up and handcuffed. They were walked out of the warehouse. The light outside stung Hebitani's eyes until he was finally brought into the back of an Anti Skill truck, along with his homies, and seated down. Each truck had two armed officers guarding them.

Hebitani sat near the backdoors, and he could hear a girl announcing Kurozuma's arrest, even though they were close. _Konori Mii I suppose?_ Wondered Hebitani. Kurozuma then commented on the girl's breast size. They laughed like hyenas. _Da fuck? I'mma try this "Musashino Milk"… _

The outside noises finally subsided as the backdoors of the trucks were shut. The engines sprung to life. They were being delivered to the Anti Skill Headquarters to be locked up before trial. At some point during the ride however, the truck Hebitani was in stopped and the backdoors were opened. From the outside. Three Anti Skill members pointed their rifles at them, telling them not to move. More Anti Skill members stepped in and blindfolded them one by one. Then the doors slammed shut. Their little trip resumed.

At the end of the trip, they were brought out of the trucks and their blindfolds were removed. For a brief moment, everything seemed to dissolve into the blinding light. Hebitani squinted and caught a glimpse of the silhouettes in front of him. He stared down at the ground as his pupils returned to their normal size. They were in an empty construction site, surrounded by skeletons of reinforced concrete and scaffolds. A man was waiting for them. He wore dark pants, a belt, and a dark blue bulletproof vest over a white shirt. The man and other Anti Skill members formed a semi-circle in front of Hebitani and his men.

"Hello Tsuguo." Began the man. "I am the leader of this task force right here. Now, do you have any idea, how hard our job is? I want you to think from our perspective, how much easier it is, to get rid of street gangs, if we let them fight it out first. Or even better, we get to control a gang, make it nice and strong, and use it to run errands for us. Your group seems to be suitable."

"Rule of the streets. Never make deals with cops." Said Hebitani.

"But we do all kinds of things besides being cops. You do know that we are volunteers right? So, if you accept our offer, you are also part of our _volunteer _group."

"Oh yeah? And what if I don't?"

The task force leader sighed. He stuck his hands into his pockets and began walking back and forth.

"Well, then it's gonna be a hard time for all of us. People are gonna say, _oh no, more street gangs? Anti Skill sucks ass! I don't trust them no more_. As for you guys, we can't just let you run free after your sentence is over, especially after I just told you our little secret. Best case scenario, our group of politicians and lawyers will keep in there for good. Come on Tsuguo. I know you. You're not some OG, so don't pretend to be."

"Well fuck you. Coz' I don't need you." Replied Hebitani.

"Aww Tsuguo, why did you get on the streets then? Why did you join your little _friend group_ in the first place? Was it your little safe space?" Taunted the task force leader. "Look, I know you're stronger and better than that. If you work with us, we will make sure your charges get dropped in trial. We will make you king, as you rightfully should be."

"So what kinda things we do?" Asked Hebitani.

"Mostly to wipe off rival street gangs. Fix the town up here and there so that we look better on TV. Occasionally, high level figures might need something, and that gets passed down the chain of command to you."

"You make sure my homies also get released." Replied Hebitani.

"You see? I knew you wouldn't disappoint…"

"Since we cool now, tell me who you work for, and what you do." Said Hebitani.

"Oh, well, what do you expect from a small task force? We are in charge of dealing with gang violence, and we are supposed to keep people and their children safe, you know? All that bullshit. That's why the Anti Skill Commissioner decided to send _me_ to talk to you. As I said, we all want to look good on TV." Said the task force leader.

"What do I call you then?"

"Yamamoto." Replied task force leader Yamamoto.

"A'ight, and you call me Hebitani."

"Sure thing." Said Yamamoto as he gestured his men to escort Hebitani's gang back into the van. "Here's a number." Yamamoto folded a slip of paper in half and shoved it into Hebitani's coat pocket. "Request a call if you need anything while in the station."

The details next were sketchy. Prosecutors showed up at the court. After a lengthy trial in the court of law, the defendant, Kurozuma Wataru, was charged with statutory rape (Konori Mii was a minor) and unlawful handling of Class B controlled substances in accordance to the Academy City Controlled Substances Act (the dynamite that Hebitani strapped onto himself, which was cut by Kurozuma). On the other hand, the charges were light for Hebitani and his men, due to "lack of evidence." Initially, they could only be charged with unlawful possession of firearms, but due to the firearms being destroyed (Kuroko teleported iron rods into them), there was insufficient indication that those firearms ever belonged to them. So that was dropped, too.

A whiff of Hebitani's Yves Saint Laurent _La_ _Nuit_ _de_ _l'Homme_ cologne brought him back to the bar. For a second, he thought he was in his hood clothes he was wearing at the time his mind travelled to. He stared down to check; nope, still Giorgio Armani. He looked at his Omega watch, it was 11:05.

"Damn… I got shitfaced." Said the Delivery Man. "My boys just booked us some rooms."

"Yeah, stay'ere for the night. We look after yo boat." Hebitani answered.

"And please tell the hotel not to send anyone to my room. I'm too fucked up."

"Sure thang."

"Hey" The Delivery Man began as he stood up, but having to support himself with a hand on the table. "Pleasure doing business with you." He staggered out of the bar.

Another girl, also wearing nothing but undergarments, approached Hebitani, who was now alone with the bartender. She leaned over Hebitani and put her hands on his shoulder.

"Heyyyy. The Commissioner sent me. He said you seemed a little down, so why don't we head up to your room, and let me cheer you up a little?"

"Ughh I'm a little messed up." Said Hebitani, clutching his head, and staring at the mountain of shot glasses in front of him, which was twice the size of the Delivery Man's.

"Aw you look fine. The guy that just left, he couldn't even walk straight. He's so drunk that he can't bang someone in the right hole."

"Dayum. Okay. Let's go den." And so they went.


	7. 忍

**Yamamoto's task force was called "C.A.S.H."**_**,**_ **which stood for "Community Against Street Hoodlums." **

The next morning, Yamamoto himself came to pick up the Police Commissioner, who was worn out by the night he spent with the girl. He couldn't keep up.

Yamamoto and his men arrived in black sedans; private cars. One of his men stepped out, and opened the door for the Commissioner. He stepped in and the sedan drove off. Later, three Big Spider SUVs came to pick up the men from the ship, driving to the port. The cranes that weren't being used for ages sprung to life, unloading the cargo off of the ship. The Delivery Man, carrying the aluminum briefcase, and his crew boarded the ship. A while later, it left the port.

"Un-fucking-believable." An Anti Skill member muttered as he stormed out of an office situated on the fifth floor of the Anti Skill Headquarters. Him, along with the rest of Yomikawa Aiho's squad, camped on the unfinished building last night with rifles, waiting to perform a rather public execution of Hebitani and his men, when that mission was cancelled.

Soon, Yomikawa came to the office door, knocked, and entered. A man in his late 40s had just finished a call, removing his remote earbuds. He sat up straight, placing his arms on his wooden desk. The desk had a sign on it, in the shape of a triangular prism, that said "Officer Takagi."

"Sir, you called me?" Yomikawa Began.

"Yes." Answered Takagi, as he stood up and pulled up the blinds. The room got brighter. The window overlooked the busy streets, the roads, the cars and the buses. A blimp just passed above. "Take a break, Yomikawa. I'm giving you permission."

"Thank you sir." Yomikawa closed the door behind her as she walked out of the office.

Takagi stared at the calligraphy scroll that was hanging on the wall opposite to his desk. The big character "忍", meaning "to endure" or "to put up with", was written on it, along with vertical lines of poetry underneath it.

"How much longer?" Takagi muttered. "How much longer…"

"They killed my brother." Said Yuda. His brother was one of the only officers who participated in the _Raid _while not being in Yamamoto's task force, along with five others. They were all dead.

"I know your brother. An honest young man, but sometimes impulsive, always eager to prove himself. I could still remember his face when he left for the raid on the Big Spider warehouse." Answered a man in a hoodie. The two men sat on a bench in the remote district.

"And you could've prevented him from going." Said Yuda.

"You think I don't regret it? There are so many dirty cops, and Yamamoto was the last person I would investigate, at the time. You do know, Yuda, that he is the leader of the task force C.A.S.H., which focuses on street gangs."

Yuda lowered his face into his hands. He used to imagine his brother charging into the warehouse, single-handedly defeating the _bad guys_ who rushed at him with knives and sticks, then randomly picking up a handgun and downing the rest of them one by one, before being shot by a Big Spider member. That was how he died, valiantly, with honor, except, no.

As far as Yuda knew, his brother was a recruit at the time, and he was there to only observe. If C.A.S.H. did not let him observe, the entire Anti Skill would become suspicious. He sat in the back of an Anti Skill van that transported the cuffed gang members, watching over them. Halfway through the trip, the vans stopped and more of Yamamoto's men stepped in to blindfold them. The vans took a detour. Yamamoto had his nice talk with Hebitani, and then the witnesses, the six Anti Skill members not affiliated with C.A.S.H., were lined up and shot in the back of the head. Yuda did not participate in the Raid as he was observing an anti-terrorism drill.

"Another bottle of beer please." Said the hooded man to the store clerk. Yuda lit a cigarette he had bought from the store. He sucked on it with his mouth, savoring the flavor in his oral cavity, before taking a long drag. Then he smoked it like usual.

"I need you to go in." Said the hooded man.

"Excuse me?" Asked Yuda.

"Do something that would get you in prison. For a while."

"Why?"

"I need you to protect the former leader of Big Spider. Kurozuma Wataru. After the Raid, Yamamoto's prosecutors kept him in there for good, but he will be released in three months."

"All this, just for me to protect another scumbag?" Yuda demanded.

"Yuda, this _scumbag _is our hope to dismantling the empire created by Yamamoto, and other corrupt sectors. They are able to maintain their power by controlling Big Spider. Hebitani Tsuguo, the current leader, is a puppet, okay? He's their bitch. We take care of Hebitani, and install Kurozuma again as the leader of Big Spider. Tables turned. By then, we would have obtained information on the corrupt officers. I promise you this: I will let you personally shoot Yamamoto in the face."

"How 'bout I cover his feet in concrete and dump him into the sea?" Asked Yuda.

"How about we attract as less attention as possible?"


	8. Lit

Yuda walked through the entrance of the karaoke box. He stood in front of the vibrant bar area. The bar table glowed yellow, while the wall behind the bartenders alternated between bands of red and purple. One bartender was making two cocktails, dancing to the music while juggling with the shakers. The other bartender poured 151-proof Bacardi over a row of shot glasses, and a little on the table, before whipping out a barbecue lighter. After the flames died down and the drinks heated, Yuda sat down. He would not be able to have another decent shot in months. Maybe a year.

"I need you to rough someone up to make your sentence look credible." Yuda recalled the hooded man saying.

"Tell me about this _someone._"

"Well, he is the douchebag son of a piece of shit demagogue." Stated the hooded man.

"And? I'm sorry, Officer Takagi, as much as I disdain arrogant sons of politicians, I need a better reason in order to beat him up, if you need me to do serious time." Replied Yuda. Takagi sighed, and removed his hood.

"He has been assisting his father, who is a major benefactor of Yamamoto." Said Takagi. "Look, Yuda, calm down. Do enough to get in, but only for a few months."

"Where. Is. He?"

According to Takagi, the advantage of using Yuda is that he would be seen as a nobody in the _Dark Side of Academy City_ and the mob world. In fact, Yuda wasn't even from here. He and his brother left Indonesia ten years ago, and ended up in Academy City after studying in Japan. They joined Anti Skill at the same time.

A month ago, Takagi's task force created a death certificate for Yuda. It said that he was killed in a "drill accident." From then onwards, Yuda was off the Antiskill officers' database, off the grid.

Yuda took out his wallet to pay for the shots. As he drank, he turned his head to survey the room. His phone buzzed as Takagi sent him the photo. Yuda compared everyone with the photo, and found him sitting on the couch around a black table, in the left corner.

_Is this a joke?_ Yuda wondered, as he glanced at the politician's son. He wore a ruby red shirt with flower patterns and a popped collar, that was unbuttoned to his hairy chest. Even though it was relatively dark in here, he had his designer shades on. His bangs were brushed to the sides and dyed gold. Finally, just to top it off, thick gold-plated chains.

He stood up to go to the bathroom, leaving the girls on the couch. His bodyguards stood in front of the bathroom door. After a while, Yuda got up too, waiting for him to come out. When he finally did, he walked between his two bodyguards back towards the couch. Yuda picked up his pace and bumped into his arm.

"Are you fuckin' blind or retarded?" Asked the politician's son, as one of his bodyguards shoved Yuda by the chest. "Remember him. Leave a mark on him when he leaves."

"What the fuck did you say?" Demanded Yuda.

"Man get tha fuck outta 'ere." Said the bodyguard, pushing him away again.

Yuda of course, wanted that reaction from them. Just from the way his bodyguard pushed him, Yuda knew they stood no chance in a fight.

Yuda went back to the bar table and ordered a glass of _Spirytus Rektyfikowany_, neat. The bartender stared at him, shocked, but took the bottle out anyway. He pointed at the label, which had a big "96%" written on it. Yuda nodded, and the bartender poured for him.

"This is for someone else." Yuda stated, as he took the glass of spirit, stood up, and slowly walked over towards the politician's son. His other hand was fingering a cigarette lighter. As he walked, the speakers started playing a new song. "Lone Digger" by Caravan Palace.

"What?" The politician's son asked as Yuda approached them. "Is that for me?" His bodyguards and the girls stared at Yuda.

Then his eyes widened when he finally noticed that the glass Yuda was holding had a faint blue flame coming off the top. With lightning speed, Yuda's arm lashed out, as a flaming dragon leaped through the air and landed on his shirt, his exposed chest, the gold chains, his neck, and his chin. Then Yuda smashed the glass cup, which had a little bit of burning spirit still left in there, over one of the bodyguards' head, before striking him and kicking him down.

On the ground, the politician's son was writhing, rolling, and screaming "You sick motherfucker! You fuckin' cocksucker! Son of a whore!" The other bodyguard ignored Yuda and struggled to get the fire extinguisher, but Yuda kicked it out of his hands, as he wanted the politician's son to burn for longer.

The karaoke bar was in chaos. One of the girls managed to rip the half full bottle off the top of a water dispenser, before pouring it all over the burning man on the ground. His hair was still on fire from all that hairspray, so the girl took off her T-shirt and used it to beat and smother out the flame.

The bodyguard that was still standing charged at Yuda, but was visibly scared. Three moves later, the bodyguard could not even stand anymore. An empty bottle was smashed over his head, knocking him out.

Yuda walked casually back to the bar table. The bartender wasn't there anymore, so Yuda chose his own drink from the cabinet and poured for himself. Then he took out his wallet and put a few notes under his glass.

"Get down on the ground!" Officer Takagi yelled behind him.


End file.
